


Before You Go

by StardustDreamMate



Series: A Thousand Years [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Cemetery, Childhood Friends, Confessions, Crushes, Forgiveness, Ghosts, Heavy Angst, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Love, Love Letters, M/M, Mutual Pining, New Beginnings, Past Child Abuse, Sad themes, Supernatural - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 07:08:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23467390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StardustDreamMate/pseuds/StardustDreamMate
Summary: Donghyuck is lonely. It is hard to leave your entire life behind and pick up a new one in which you don’t understand anything. But it’s okay, because he still has Mark, and in the end, they’re all each other ever needed.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Series: A Thousand Years [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1688224
Comments: 23
Kudos: 21





	Before You Go

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Do any of you remember when I said I don’t write angst? HA, I guess not. Anyway! This is the second part of A Thousand Years, and I strongly suggest reading [Twilight Descending](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22309684) first because this story essentially spoils the entirety of it lol. 
> 
> Warnings: This deals with past child abuse, as well as unpleasant death themes. It's nothing too graphic nor severe, but please don't read this if it'll hurt you in any way. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I have absolutely nothing against Donghyuck’s real parents, and I know nothing about them. None of us do. These characters are by no means real representations of any of the real people they are based on, and any and all aspects are used fictitiously. 
> 
> I honestly don't know why I'm posting this story because the first installment didn't get much love, but I just felt the need to write it and escape reality for a little. I've got a strong connection with this universe, as well as topic, and I genuinely enjoy writing this pairing. I couldn't resist writing Donghyuck's perspective, so here it is. Any and all comments and kudos are appreciated dearly and cherished! Stay safe, guys <3

Ether is the essence of ghosts. It is the mixing of remnants from their previous life’s sustenance (souls, memories, et cetera) combined with their ectoplasm, the fluid of ghosts, that grows stronger the longer they remain tied to our world. Because of this phenomenon, older ghosts are more powerful, and any one ghost can lend their own ether to another through physical contact if they so choose to do so.

It is my belief that ether gives them the ability to interact with items in the world of the living (ex. objects or people), whether it be through sight, touch, or any of the other five unique senses, but any and all interaction between the dead and the living shall take a toll on the ghost. However, it can be replenished, but only if it isn't completely spent.

Huang Renjun, 1846, _The Writings of A Paranormal Enthusiast_

_——————_

Donghyuck doesn’t know why he did it. It just felt right. He knows he shouldn’t have thrown the pebble at the window, but watching Mark crawl out it each day with unshed tears glittering in his eyes was one of the most painful things Donghyuck had ever been privy to, and he’s not eager for a repeat. 

So, he threw the pebble, despite knowing that it was a very Bad Idea™ (and also a huge waste of ether). Ghosts weren’t supposed to interfere with the mortal world just because they could, and throwing rocks at your still-living beloved’s window is certainly interfering. 

He sees Mark’s head snap up at the sound, and Donghyuck’s ethereal body starts to sink a little with guilt. He knows what Mark thinks about every time he settles onto the roof, and Donghyuck has done nothing but give the boy more hope. 

Mark crawls out onto the roof rather quickly, manoeuvering the mesh screen out of the way with a practised air. He situates himself in their old usual spot, smiling faintly.

Donghyuck floats to the side cautiously as Mark begins talking to the empty air, unable to see him. The conversation is a familiar one, littered with ‘what ifs’ and missed chances, and it weighs heavy on Donghyuck’s heart. It was from his last day living on Earth, after all. 

Mark looks so handsome in the fading sunlight, and Donghyuck is certain that he will never tire of seeing that face, whether Mark remains young and naive or ages to be old and wise. He will always be the love of Hyuck’s life, and it will not matter that Donghyuck has left him early because it will always be and has always been Mark. 

Hesitantly, Donghyuck floats closer to Mark, who has curled up so small on the battered shingles, still speaking into the chilled air. Mark’s eyes remain unfocused, however, and Donghyuck can’t help but come closer, gently caressing the side of Mark’s face. His fingers don’t pass through the boy, but they don’t condense into something solid, either. He’s spent too much ether on the pebble, and it will be a while before he gains it back. 

More sadness saturates his being as Mark’s fingers turn up invitingly, and Donghyuck is so, so weak because he goes willingly, latching on tight to his beloved, leaning into him. For a mere second, he swears that Mark can truly see him as his eyes lighten before his own head comes to rest upon Donghyuck’s own. Of course, neither of them are truly touching, but it’s the semblance of it that comforts both ghost and boy. 

The moment is sweet, yet tinged with bitterness as Donghyuck knows that he’s going to have to leave soon. He might be tied to the world of the living by unfinished business, but he still has to return to his grave every night. 

Having to is very different from wanting to, unfortunately. 

His grave is dismal and depressing, and it only brings him sadness to be there. The flowers on it are decaying and rotting since no one has visited in weeks, and it’s so lonely lying in the graveyard alone. Sure, Renjun comes out of the crypt to talk to him from time to time, but the older ghost mostly stays where he is, plotting revenge against the man who stabbed him in 1849 for kissing his boyfriend in an alleyway. 

In any case, it’s just very lonely to be surrounded by the dead when you still remember the world of the living and what it’s like to be thriving among laughing, breathing people. He never gets visitors, either, not since the week he died. 

His parents will most likely never come visit him, oh no, but his twin sister brought their younger brothers to visit a few days after the funeral. It was sad and filled with lots of tears, but Donghyuck had been glad to see them. He loved his siblings, and he’ll probably regret being torn away from them for the rest of his existence. 

Little Mingyu’s chubby fingers had looked so small in Keonhee’s, both his brothers looking so, so heartbreakingly young standing in the middle of the desolate graveyard, the daffodils and sunflowers clutched in their fists providing the only splotch of colour against the dismal gray. 

He knew they didn’t understand the why or the how, and it had made him want to cry as they gently laid the flowers next to his headstone and stared at it with tears in their eyes. They were too young yet to understand just how cruel the world can be when you are something that it isn’t ready for. He hoped Hyunae would explain it to them someday. 

If she knew, that is. 

When the tears started to escape their eyes in deluges, Donghyuck had swirled around them to create a breeze, to let them know he was there, before kissing their chubby cheeks and hugging them tightly. 

It wasn’t enough. 

The tears had still poured out. 

When he hugged his twin, though, his own tears couldn’t be stopped, and for the barest of moments, he could swear that Hyunae had hugged him back before gently tugging the little ones away. 

Hyuck didn’t leave his grave until a week later. 

Now, though, he’s starting to get used to being lonely in the cemetery. He’s made his peace with the fact that no one will come visit him for a long time, his death either being too traumatic for his friends and siblings, or his life being too irredeemable to his parents to consider visiting their tarnished son. 

Although, Mark’s absence stings a little, more so than any of the others. Maybe it’s because he knows that Mark mourns him every day, yet never bothers to visit. Even so, Donghyuck understands why. 

The trauma and guilt weigh quite heavily on Mark’s soul, that much is abundantly clear. He knows that Mark blames himself for his death because he never realized the danger that Donghyuck was in, nor did he connect it to the scars and pain from the fights that his parents had “with each other”. Donghyuck doesn’t blame him though. How could he, when Donghyuck kept the truth from him to protect him, and when Donghyuck himself should’ve been more careful? 

Perhaps it’s neither of their faults. 

It wasn’t like his death was planned or anything. It wasn’t a suicide, and his father certainly hadn’t intended to do what he had done. He had been drunk and misunderstood the night Donghyuck spent at Mark’s house the day before. The incident only fed their hate for what their son was. 

They argued and fought and screamed, as usual, before his father took the shotgun off the wall, and well, Donghyuck is glad his younger siblings hadn’t been home. It was messy but fast, and it felt just like falling asleep. 

And so, well, Donghyuck’s here now, with Mark once again, hidden and longing for something they both can’t have. 

_I love you_ , he whispers as Mark starts to tear up, holding him infinitesimally closer. The boy does this every time, always tries to punish himself for not recognizing the abuse Donghyuck was suffering, and it makes his ghost drag on the shingles from the sadness. 

He strokes his ethereal fingers over Mark’s, wishing that he had enough ether to spare to _touch_ him. Donghyuck would be willing to give his whole existence for a chance to kiss him and tell him he loves him. 

If only Mark knew.

The sun is starting to get dangerously low now, stars starting to make an appearance as the sun gives way to the moon, and Donghyuck really needs to go. The stories of ghosts that don’t return home in time will forever scare the living shit out of him, and Donghyuck is not eager to become another one. 

He allows himself one more second with Mark, shifting close to nuzzle his shoulder before he has to melt away. As he does, he sees the exact second that Mark truly senses his presence fading, already curling into himself, before Donghyuck’s whisked away by the mid-autumn wind. 

  
  
  


As always, Donghyuck visits Mark again the next day, and the day after that, and the one after that. Maybe they’re both insane, he thinks, as he sits next to his beloved and listens to him vent and scream and cry into the open air. Maybe it is unhealthy for them to do this every day, knowing that nothing will come out of it. But it’s also cleansing, and _that_ is something that Donghyuck knows they both need. 

So he stays. 

One month after the day Donghyuck gave in to his desires, Mark’s head snaps up the second he floats into the older boy’s room, despite the ghost not making a sound nor moving a single object. He’s never ventured as far as Mark’s room since he’s died, and he only did because the blonde wasn’t on the roof for the first time in ages. 

He’s definitely glad he did. 

“Hyuck?” Mark’s eyes are comically wide, darting around the room. His curls are nearly obscuring them by now, and his dark roots are starting to show in a way that looks sloppy and not intentional. Donghyuck wants nothing more than to force him to go get a haircut, for this to be like it used to be. 

_I’m right here,_ is what he tells him instead, drifting closer to his beloved and cocking his head curiously to the side. Mark has never been able to actually see him, and he has only sensed him once, to Donghyuck’s knowledge, on the day he threw the pebble. 

Mark’s wandering eyes seem to settle on him all of a sudden, the ghost hovering just to the left of Mark’s bed. A sad smile overtakes his features, reminiscent yet bitter, before his mother is calling him down to dinner and the moment is ruined. 

  
  
  


The next day, there are flowers on his grave, beautiful and vibrant and nothing like the old, rotted ones that had been cleared away. Roses, lilies, irises, violets, and tulips are all weaved around the headstone carved with plain, impersonal letters, arranged around the base in swirling patterns. 

Gel hearts are stuck to the sides of the rock, making it look less cold. A wire is resting on top, wound with white daisies that form a crown, and Donghyuck has never wanted to wear something more. 

In the centre of the display sits three cards, one in Mark’s scrawled script, and two that are addressed to him in Hyunae’s handwriting, one of which is surrounded entirely by child-like scribbles. They are simple and one-sided, allowing Donghyuck to read them without waiting for an older ghost to lend him the ether to open it. The thought is as sweet as the gorgeous display, and Donghyuck appreciates it more than they will ever know. 

His ghost has never felt so light, and Donghyuck all but pounces on the cards, drinking up his loved ones’ words eagerly, like a parched man in the desert. 

Hyunae’s letter is mostly just an update on their daily lives, along with an apology for not visiting much and a promise to do better in the future. She continues with a reassurance that _yes, they’re being careful when they visit_ and a confession that she knows what happened the day he died.

She goes on to explain that their father is in jail now and receiving therapy. Hyunae does mention that Keonhee and Mingyu don’t know exactly why their dad is in jail, but that their mum did report him right after the funeral. She tells him that their eomma isn’t ready to visit him yet and to please give her time to atone for her sins. 

Donghyuck will. 

He’s had enough time to make peace with them, and he does forgive his mum for not stepping in. She was never the one causing the problem, but she never stepped up to protect him, either. Perhaps that’s inexcusable, but it’s hard to be too mad after the fact. 

Time heals all wounds, they said. 

Donghyuck would have to agree. 

Hyunae’s letter continues with a sadder tone as she apologizes for not being there for him, but they lighten when she agrees that Mark would have been perfect for him. The card closes with an _I love you and miss you, Donghyuckie,_ written in brilliant purple ink, followed by, _take care of yourself, xoxo Hyunae._

For the first time since his deathday, Donghyuck’s ghost feels entirely weightless, warm with the love pouring out of his sister’s words. It’s good that their father is receiving help, and he’s proud of his eomma for doing the right thing to atone for his mistreatment. Nothing will ever erase what they had done to him, but it’s a start. 

He’s also glad that Hyunae knows why he died and knows that it was Mark because he was and still is a vital piece of himself that Donghyuck would’ve liked her to know. He would’ve loved to tell her himself, but something had always told him that his twin had known already. He’s glad that feeling was right. 

Smiling quietly, Donghyuck turns to his brothers’ card, laughing at the decorations. Someone had dipped Mingyu’s hand in red paint (Donghyuck’s favourite) and stamped it onto the cardstock, surrounding the toddler’s hand with messily-drawn hearts in every shade of the rainbow. 

The rest of the card is filled with Keonhee’s big, messy lettering, coaxing a grin out of the ghost as he trails a finger over the words, _We love you, Hyung!_ His eldest little brother has improved so much since Donghyuck died, he’ll be writing full sentences in no time. 

The thought makes him just a little bit sadder, knowing that his siblings will grow up without him. Perhaps it’s time for him to start visiting them quietly, to bury the lingering fear surrounding his childhood home. If his siblings can overcome the pain of acknowledging his passing, he can overcome the apprehension of visiting home. 

The final card is perhaps the most anticipated of them all. It’s Mark’s, who has never visited him before, and Donghyuck can tell that it took the boy hours to write it. The entirety of the paper is filled with words, cramped close together, some of them crossed out with long, dark strokes, and there is barely enough room at the bottom for Mark’s signature. The entire thing is very Mark-esque, and Donghyuck is very, very charmed. His beloved has always had a way with words, especially written ones, and he can’t wait to see what Mark has to say. 

Heart racing, Donghyuck begins to read. 

_To my dearest_ ~~ _Donghyuck_ _Haechan_ _FullSun_ _Donghyuckie_~~ _Donghyuckie,_ the letter reads, and, already, Donghyuck is chuckling. Leave it to Mark Lee to be indecisive while writing a letter to a dead boy. 

_I miss you so much, full sun, god, you have no idea. It’s terrible waking up every morning knowing that I’ll go to school and you won’t be there. It’s agonizing to think about it all, how you died, how scared you must be up there, all alone. Yes, up there. I know you always said you’d go to hell, but you’ve always been much too good to ever stay with Satan, if he’s even real. But I hope you’re not scared and lonely in heaven, either, or wherever souls go. If you’ve truly left, that is._

_God, Hyuck, this is killing me to write._ ~~_I don’t know how to live without you._~~ _If only you knew what I’ve been doing since that day. You’d scold me and call me a little bitch, and I’ve never wanted to hear those words more. I’d let you call me literally anything, whether it be asshat or dick or fucker if it meant you’d come back to me._

Here, the card gets suspiciously wrinkly and discoloured, and Donghyuck’s own ethereal tears are running down his cheeks, painting them silver. Oh, how he knows what Mark has been doing, and it breaks his heart to know that he’s caused all of this. 

_There are so many things I wish we could’ve done,_ Mark continues, _and_ _~~I wish I had said something in particular to you.~~ _ _I wish I had told you in time instead of pushing it off for a “tomorrow” that never came. I won’t forget again, though. I won’t forget that there isn’t a tomorrow for everyone. I won’t waste my days anymore, I promise._

_Anyway, you must be wondering why my shitty self hasn’t visited you since the funeral, and I honestly can’t explain exactly why. I guess I was just scared, and your funeral was terrible. I hated seeing you lie there looking so beautiful but so lifeless. All I wanted was for you to get up and smile, but that never happened. It was full of people speaking about you and telling stories about you without truly knowing you. None of them know you the way I do. And I hated it. I hated them, and I even hated you for a second, but mostly, I hated myself._

_So, I guess you could say I was afraid that visiting meant I’d accepted your_ ~~_deat_~~ _passing when I hadn’t. But mostly, Hyuck, I thought you’d hate me for not keeping you safe. That’s what_ _boy_ _best friends are supposed to do, anyway, and I failed you. Whatever bullshit I use to justify myself, it doesn’t change the fact that I was a coward who couldn’t even visit his best friend to keep him company or apologize. God, Hyuckie, I feel terrible for leaving you all alone for all these months. I swear I won’t do it again._

_What else...if you’re reading this, you’ve already seen the flowers that we left for you. We worked hard to find the right ones, and I’m really sorry you had to see those awful dead ones for so long. I hope these new ones brighten up your day like you always did for me, Hyuckie. You were always my sunshine, no matter how stormy it was outside or how stormy I was inside._

_Oh, you might find this funny, Mingyu and Keonhee wanted to buy the whole store, including a few cacti, but Hyunae and I are much too broke for that and we had to draw the line somewhere._

_Speaking of which, Hyunae and I talked for the first time ~~since you…yeah,~~ this morning. We both love you so much, and it was time we got it together and visited (although she tells me she brought the little ones once already, so I guess I’m the one who needs to get it together). Nonetheless, I finally put my driver’s license to use, and we came by this morning. _

_It was kind of nice to talk about everything, to talk about why I_ _~~lo~~ _ _miss you with people who truly understand it too, and I think we’re both more at peace now. I’ll try to bring them more often, though, because I think you'll want to watch them grow up. As for myself...well, you can expect to see lots more of me :). Oh, and in case Hyunae doesn’t tell you, your true family ~~(your siblings!)~~ are doing okay, and I promise to take good care of them for you. You would’ve done the same for me. You and your heart of gold. _

_Wow, this is starting to get really long. Just one last thing. Do you believe in ghosts, Hyuck? I think I do. There have been a few times that I swear I’ve felt something warm near me or something gentle touch my shoulder or face. This probably sounds crazy, but yesterday, I swear I saw you standing in my room by the mirror. You looked radiant, Hyuck, all shimmering silver and metallic tones. You were looking at me with the tenderest look on your face, and I have never been more in love. There, I said it. I love you, Donghyuck. I know it’s too late, and I know you’ve already passed on without me, but I still love you. I always have. And I hope, selfishly, that you’ll wait for me at the end, whenever that might be. Because it’s always been you, and I would wait a thousand years just to be at your side again._

_Love eternally,_

_Mark Lee_

Donghyuck lies there for the longest time, fingers hovering over the words “I love you”. He doesn’t move for hours, stunned and hurt and effortlessly in love. All this time, he could’ve had Mark… Tears don’t come fast enough. 

Renjun pops up out of the ground next to him when the screams reach a deafening pitch, looking murderous but softening quickly as he watches the younger ghost cry. 

“Donghyuckie?” Renjun drifts closer to him, collecting a few metallic teardrops on his fingertip. “What is causing you all this pain?” 

Donghyuck just wails harder, more tears pooling in Renjun’s hands as the Chinese ghost tries to save every drop of ether leaking from the Korean boy. His hands are smooth and gentle as they glide over his cheeks, replacing the lost ether and drying the tears that spill out anyway. Donghyuck sees the exact moment that the other ghost realizes what happened, eyes falling on his revived grave and the loving words at his feet. 

“Are you in need of a hug?” Renjun offers, eyes heavy with a special kind of understanding that comes from experience. Sometimes, Donghyuck forgets just how old the other ghost is. You’d never know just looking at him, but Renjun speaks in a way that betrays the era he lived in. It’s strangely comforting, but Donghyuck doesn’t want to cry in front of the older boy. He’s seen enough pain, and he doesn’t need Donghyuck’s post-living trauma right now. 

“I just need some space,” Donghyuck hiccups, trying to smile at Renjun but pulling a grimace instead. “Thank you though, Renjunie-Hyung.” 

“Are you quite sure you do not need a hug? You look very sad.” Renjun looks a bit too understanding for his liking, and Donghyuck can’t handle the weight of his sympathy right now. 

“I’m okay.” He can’t help but turn away from Renjun, trying to hide the devastation in his own eyes. 

Donghyuck doesn’t flinch away, however, when the other ghost wraps himself around his shoulders and squeezes him tight. It’s comforting to be with someone who understands loss the way he does, and the hug is warm.

Donghyuck had forgotten the simple intimacy that a hug could provide.

After a little while, Renjun presses a chaste kiss to his cheek and promises to listen when he needs to talk before slipping away. 

Donghyuck descends into the ground to hide, far enough where only the corpses will hear his sobs. 

  
  


The sound of tires crunching gravel cuts through the silence of the budding night, and Donghyuck finally stirs, popping out of the ground and looking around curiously because who would visit a cemetery this late? Even if they’re not worried about being eaten by wayward ghosts, most people don’t want their organs harvested by grave robbers or some similar shit. Donghyuck drifts away from his beautified grave, intending to investigate the strange visitor. 

He is weaving his way through the graveyard, passing carelessly through a few trees along the way, when a familiar voice freezes him in place. 

“Dammit, Mark! This is why you turn on your flashlight before trying to walk through a graveyard at night!” And lo and behold, there stands Mark Lee, holding his injured foot and apologizing profusely to Kim Chaemin’s ghost-less gravestone. 

Donghyuck remains where he is, a few meters away from the love of his life/un-life and waits for him to straighten up, his ether heavy with anticipation. It’s possible, after all, during the night hours when the ghosts are chained to the cemetery, that someone will sense them. Most ghosts, however, don’t come out in the night like Donghyuck does, so there’s little eyewitness proof. 

Mark fumbles around adorably for his phone, clicking the flashlight on, and finally looks up, screaming instantly. His phone returns to the ground with a sickening crunch. Donghyuck’s whole body tingles with the electricity humming in the air. 

“D-Donghyuck?” He whispers, staring straight at the ghost just as he had done the day before. 

_Oh, Mark._

Donghyuck is closing the distance between them in seconds, circling the teenager at a dizzying speed, whipping the air around them into a frenzy. It was more of an instinct than a planned action, but he can see the older boy whipping his head around to try to settle on him. 

“Are you real?” The raw voice crack has Donghyuck stopping in front of him instantly, halting the strange ghost-like behaviour of cycloning any human they encounter. 

_Who’s to say I’m not?_ Donghyuck replies, mouth moving although Mark can hear no sound. He knows it’s pointless to try to talk to the living, but it’s not going to stop him from saying it anyway. 

Donghyuck’s fingers reach for Mark’s cheeks, in a daze, and to his utter surprise, his fingers don’t pass through the living boy. Instead, the ether settles gently against Mark’s skin, the mere whisper of a kiss. 

It’s intoxicating. 

His head spins with the knowledge that he _has enough ether to touch Mark._ He can touch him. His lifeless fingers don’t pass through his best friend. He has enough ether to interact with the physical world, even though he has no idea where the excess came from. 

He has just enough time to start mentally recounting all of his interactions with ghosts in the past two days before Mark is sobbing into his shoulder, tears falling through Donghyuck. It’s a brutally effective reminder that one of them will never be entirely there, and Donghyuck makes his decision at that moment, ether flowing through him in unwavering currents. 

He holds Mark carefully as if the older is made of glass teetering on the edge of a precipice. In a way, he is because their moment is fragile, and Donghyuck’s borrowed ether _will_ run out. It’s simply a question of when. 

He is going to make every second count. 

“I miss you so much,” Mark gasps out, fingers clutching at the outlines of Donghyuck’s shoulders, yet unable to make contact. It figures, there has never been a story about a human touching a ghost. “It feels like I can’t breathe anymore.” Mark’s voice sounds so very broken, and it’s the voice of a boy, not a young adult, nor a man. It’s the voice of a boy driven to his breaking point, clinging solely to desperation. 

_I know. I’m sorry._ Donghyuck puts enough effort into the words that Mark can definitely see his lips form the syllables in lieu of actual words. It’s not much, but it’s all they have. 

“You shouldn’t be sorry.” Mark’s breath ghosts his ear, as the teenager tries to get it back together. “I’m the one who should be sorry.” 

_No. Never._ Donghyuck pushes his own head against Mark’s, holding them close together. 

“Did you read my letter?” Mark hiccups as he stifles the tears that had been flowing freely, pulling back enough to see Donghyuck’s face. Red-rimmed eyes pull the ghost’s in, hypnotizing him with the intensity simmering in them, the pooled liquid making his obsidian eyes glitter like cut glass. 

He looks beautiful, alluring in the moonlight, and wholly alive. Also, maybe there’s a snot bubble forming on the end of his nose, but Mark still looks radiant. 

_Of course I did. How could I not?_ Donghyuck brushes over Mark’s cheekbones delicately, admiring the angles and curves, mapping the boy’s face out with his hands while he still can. The flesh is warm, pulsing with blood, and Donghyuck has never felt more dead, staring into his living love’s sad, sad eyes. 

“I told you I love you, can you believe that?” Mark chuckles wetly, swiping at his tears with an adorable sweater paw. “I can’t believe it took me so long, and I can’t believe I waited until you were gone.” Bitterness hangs heavy on his last few words as a sob threatens to build, Mark’s frame shaking with the effort to suppress it, and Donghyuck hugs him tighter, cupping his head in his hands and resting their foreheads together. 

“It’s okay, I forgive you,” Donghyuck whispers, astonished when the words form in the air, sounds clear and precise. Instantly, a surge of ether charges the air around them, seeping out of the ghost’s body. 

He’s running out of time. 

“Hyuck,” Mark breathes, trembling in his hold. “I missed your voice so much.” 

“I miss you too.” Donghyuck has never spoken truer words, and the effort costs him. He can feel his essence draining, and yet, Donghyuck is ready. “But, you’ll be okay. Take care of my family for me, please? But don’t forget to take care of yourself, too, okay?” 

“What are you saying?” Mark pleads, clinging to him tighter. “Why does that sound like a goodbye?” 

_Because it is._

A small surge of ether pulses through him as something brushes past his leg, and Donghyuck doesn’t waste the gift, pushing all of it into a kiss that he knows Mark will be able to feel. He pours all of himself into it, his love for the boy he’s kissing, his fear of what’s next, and his hopes that they’ll both be together once more, trusting that the borrowed ether will carry them across. 

Mark’s lips part suddenly, and he’s kissing back, equally as passionate, before Donghyuck’s ghost flickers, ether nearly drained. 

“I love you, Mark,” Donghyuck admits against his beloved’s lips, the last drop of his ether spent. 

His last view is an exquisite one, filled with the sweet smile of the love of his life, eyes closed delicately, and Donghyuck thinks that he’s done well. 

_I would wait a thousand years to be at your side again, indeed._

**Author's Note:**

> Twitter: @MateStardust


End file.
